


Fear Itself

by The_Jashinist



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Eldritch, Eldritch Jonathan Crane, Gen, Gore, Implied Relationships, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, NANANANANANANANA BATMAN, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other Ships Not Mentioned in Tags, Parallax Possession, Possession, Psychological Horror, everything is parallax's fault, that's my batman tag now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-04 20:39:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12779067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Jashinist/pseuds/The_Jashinist
Summary: Those that feed on fear attract those of its own to its side, and sometimes the most powerful of this ilk are fed upon by fear itself.





	1. Identity

Jonathan Crane was one of those people who had the worst luck in the world.  Barry had met people with bad luck before, but he’d never met anyone with luck quite as bad as Jonathan’s.  He wasn’t really human per se, something similar to Miss Rachel Roth, and he’d taken this revelation in stride all things considered.  But this, this was something very different.

Whatever was inside Jonathan moved again, the ridges of its exoskeleton being quite clear under Jonathan’s skin.  Each time that happened, Jonathan looked like he was in pain.

“That don’t feel right,” he muttered, finally voicing, in his own way, his discomfort.

“It’s not of magical origin?”

Barry caught the conversation that had been running between the rest of the League members.  He’d been tuning it out in an attempt to figure out what was inside Jonathan.  A bug maybe?  It certainly looked like a bug when it moved.  It wasn’t magical, at some point in the long conversation they’d mentioned Jonathan had a strangely strong mystic aura, nothing so simple as a bug was responsible.  John Stewart had gone off to Oa to see if the Guardians could identify this unusual thing, and Hal was trying to tune out the whole situation, he almost seemed uncomfortable, like the fear that hung in the air was something familiar to him.

Jonathan started looping a curl around one finger and eyed the League members talking about him with caution.  They’d been talking in circles for hours, and Barry had a feeling Jonathan didn’t like being talked about.

“Do you need anything?” Barry asked quietly, “You know, food, water, sleep?”

“Whiskey?” Jonathan suggested, “Y’all to stop talking about me like I ain’t here?”

The conversation came to a halt and Hal finally turned around.

“We’re trying to figure out what’s wrong,” he snapped.

“ _You_ ain’t doing nothing,” Jonathan snarled, “You’re sitting there staring out a window because you don’t like me.  Y’know these folks don’t much like me either and I’m not too keen on them talking about me but at least they’re being goddamn civil about it.”

“Hey,” Barry placed his hands on Jonathan’s shoulders, “do you need a moment alone?”

“Something tells me I ain’t gonna get a moment alone ever again,” Jonathan remarked.

“I meant do you want to leave the room,” Barry clarified.

“Please,” Jonathan nodded, and Barry helped him stumble into another room.  When Barry glanced back, he noticed that Hal was following them.

“If you don’t like him why are you following?” Barry asked.

“I don’t trust him.”

“Feeling’s mutual sweetheart,” Jonathan snarled, “but at the moment I can barely walk without someone holding me up so I don’t think I’m gonna try hurting your pal, not the least because he’s been the nicest of y’all so far.”

Jonathan leaned on a wall and sank to the ground.  He rested his head in one hand.

“Y’all have no idea what’s inside me, do you?” he asked quietly.

“No,” Barry shook his head, “we’re trying to figure it out though.  Zatanna said the aura was a curveball, didn’t she?”

“She said it was weird, if I recall,” Jonathan nodded, “been told that one already, many times in fact.  Didn’t think anything could get inside me, all things considered.”

The thing moved again and Jonathan flinched.  In irritation, he grabbed the creature before it could disappear back into his innards and dug his nails into his skin.  An audible squeal erupted from the creature and Jonathan jolted and let go, swearing loudly.

“Damn thing bit me,” he grunted.

“It also can scream loud enough to be heard though your skin,” Hal added.

“You see this thing, right?” Jonathan pointed to his rib, where the creature was sitting, a part of its ridged body visible like some sort of growth.  It was not small.

“Where is it?” an unfamiliar voice spoke in the other room, its tone angry and demanding.

“You couldn’t bring Ganthet?” Hal asked as John Stewart and one of the Guardians entered.  Barry couldn’t be bothered to figure out which Guardian it was, they were all small blue men as far as he was concerned.  The Guardian floated down and inspected Jonathan quietly, his eyes settled on the creature along his ribs.

“You said the creature takes control?” he looked at Stewart, who nodded, “How?”

“Why don’t you ask the person it’s inside of you glorified Oompa Loompa,” Jonathan snapped.

The Guardian glared at Jonathan, but ignored him and turned to Hal.

“Has your League exhausted all other options?”

“Yes,” Hal nodded, “we can’t find any explanation for it.”

“Then it’s probably some alien parasite,” the Guardian replied, “nothing major.”

“Look I ain’t got a clue what y’all on Planet Smurf call ‘nothing major’ but this thing is fucking huge,” Jonathan snapped, “Like I’m pretty sure it could eat you.  And hate to be a problem child but I don’t think you wanna meet the thing that willed me into existence.”

“You know this is one of the Guardians of the Universe,” Hal snapped, “You could stand to use some manners.”

“I’m afraid I’m currently being infested by a parasite that has decided my insides aren’t comfortable enough for it to stay put so forgive me for being a little fucking cranky,” Jonathan snarled, “especially when I don’t have an alien biology, or even one from this fucking plane, so forgive me for thinking your tiny blue man is full of shit.”

The Guardian narrowed his eyes, then promptly left without a word.  Hal glared at Jonathan.

“What’s your problem?” he asked, “he’s here to help.”

“No he’s here to determine whether or not this is worth his energy to give a shit,” Jonathan corrected, “and face it, he’s hiding something.  Y’all literally considered magic when faced with this thing, _it took control of my body_ , and you’re going to accept that it’s nothing major because a blue man in a red dress told you so?”

Hal opened his mouth to argue, then closed it.

“The Guardians hide things quite often,” Stewart commented, “and I doubt this is nothing major.  It nearly killed Arthur.”

The thing moved again, but this time, Jonathan fell to the ground, convulsing and screaming in agony.  As abruptly as one had appeared, several creatures were moving about all at once, screeching in time with Jonathan’s screaming as bruises started appearing on his skin.  Jonathan dug at his skin, and through his screaming Barry heard pleading to get the things out of him.  Then, as suddenly as it began, everything stopped.  Jonathan, probably from the pain, went limp.  The ridges melted away but the bruises and scratches remained, trickling a strange blackish ooze.

“Go get the Guardian,” Stewart ordered Hal, “this parasite, whatever it is, reacts to emotion.”

Hal stared at Jonathan’s unconscious body in mild discomfort, then hurried out.

As soon as he left, Jonathan convulsed, then his ribs split apart and opened, stretching the skin as they jutted out like sharp teeth.  In the space they left, an eye, huge and yellow, snapped open.  Barry could hear Jonathan’s ragged breathing, trying to keep himself from screaming.  Barry was pretty sure he was about to puke.  The eye stared at Barry for several minutes before slowly closing, and the ribs lowered back into place.  for a moment, there was silence, only Jonathan’s labored breathing.

The silence was broken with a choked sob.  Jonathan curled into a ball and began to cry.  Barry edged over and pulled Jonathan into his chest.

“Don’t let it know you’re afraid,” came the Guardian’s frantic order as it entered, “it feeds on fear.”

Jonathan choked out a sob, “It knows already.”

“What does it know?” Barry asked.

“It knows you’re afraid.”


	2. Fear

Constantine wanted to go on record that he never wanted to get involved and this was all Vic's fault.  Vic was inclined to agree.  After all, Vic was the one who put his foot in the door when Constantine tried to close it on a shuddering and obviously very uncomfortable Jonathan Crane.

Vic was not friends with Jonathan Crane, and Constantine avoided him after a certain incident with yellow skies and spiders.

Jonathan Crane was very colorful as far as Vic could tell.  He had this color about him, a gray-blue flecked with black and surrounded by a silver halo.  Constantine said it could mean a lot of things.

“What?” Constantine asked, sounding a little more than ticked off.

“John,” Jonathan’s voice pitched down in a warning growl, but returned to normal, “I think I’m possessed.”

“You don’t get possessed,” Constantine pointed out.

“Not by a demon, or anything like me,” Jonathan clarified, “I’m not sure what it is.  Can I come in?”

Constantine rolled his eyes and opened the door.

“Don’t give me that,” Jonathan snapped, “hey Vic, come to visit the teratophile or are you snooping?”

“The former,” Vic answered.

“Oh my GOD you two,” Constantine muttered, lighting a cigarette, “so what’s the problem?  If this is an excuse to shove body horror in my face you can leave.”

“Firstly, you like it,” Jonathan pointed out, following Constantine as he stormed out of the hall, “secondly, you giving me the silent treatment because your other boyfriend is here is completely ridiculous.  And thirdly, it’s not just body horror John.”

Constantine turned on his heels and strode back up to Jonathan, getting almost uncomfortably close.

“There is legitimately something inside me,” Jonathan continued, “it’s moving, talking, I can hear it inside me, I can feel it moving and messing with my body.  When it warps my body, it _hurts_.”

Constantine narrowed his eyes, “Arcane and eldritch creatures can’t possess you Jon, you know that.”

“Then it’s not arcane, or eldritch, it’s something else.  Look, it gets more powerful the more terrified I am and the more terrified the people near me are, so it has to be something that feeds on emotion.”

“Like you do?” Constantine raised his voice, making Jonathan flinch back, “You’re a perfect host for a fear-eating entity because you already draw in emotion.  I figured you’d be safe because your aura’s so strong it deters most creatures.  Guess there’s a benefit to being an outer god’s spawn, isn’t there?”

“You’ve slept with me,” Jonathan pointed out, “several times.”

Constantine took a drag from his cigarette and took a book off the large shelf in the living room, “This book details any entity, arcane, eldritch, or otherwise, possibly powerful enough to possess an outer god’s material spawn.”

Jonathan took the book from Constantine and held it up, “You told me almost nothing could possess me.”

“Most of the shit in there isn’t corporeal, or interested,” Constantine added.

“ _This book is easily bigger than the dictionary_ ,” Jonathan hissed.

“Yeah and your father is in there,” Constantine replied, taking another book off the shelf, “I need to look up more on you, god I haven’t actually written down field notes in like, ages.”

“I’m not an exotic animal,” Jonathan muttered, flipping open the book, “you’re letting me stay, right?”

“If it is a possession I don’t have much of a choice,” Constantine replied, “Azathoth, right?”

“Mmhm,” Jonathan nodded, “What’s this?”  Jonathan held up the book on a page that had “Parallax” scrawled at the top.

“That’s unusual,” Constantine frowned, “that’s basically fear itself, a parasite as it were.  Good news is it’ll be gorging itself on the fear you draw in and be totally unable to cause any, besides you know, the painful body horror.  It might rip out a few things.  You can grow back eyes, right?”

“Painfully,” Jonathan nodded.  Constantine looked back down at his own book.

“Here we are, corporeal spawn of Azathoth,” Constantine began scanning the list, “God I forget your name, refresh me.”

“Yzhyzt'vhol,” Jonathan let the name, inhuman as it was, flow from his mouth as if he’d known it all his life.  Every time an eldritch creature said it’s true name Constantine felt a shudder up his spine.

“Ri-right, Fear Eater,” Constantine muttered.  Jonathan smirked and mumbled something eldritch.  It was a teasing remark, and it was absolutely intended to distract Constantine, but he did his best to ignore it.

“What’s it say?” Jonathan asked.

“Well it says you pick up on energies of sentient creatures in a room so that explains your attitude right now,” Constantine muttered.

“Not my fault eldritch makes you hard,” Jonathan scoffed, “what about Parallax?”

“Susceptible to creatures with extreme attachment to emotions, emotional entities prefer them as hosts.”

“Well there you go,” Jonathan nodded.

“It hasn’t surfaced yet because no one in this room is genuinely afraid,” Constantine snapped the book shut, “your emotional state is regularly tied to whoever’s around you.”

Constantine strode forwards and pinned Jonathan against the wall, “And you may be afraid of this thing but right now that’s the farthest thing from your mind.”

Jonathan let out a soft laugh and gave Constantine’s cheek a gentle pat, “John, _evh'ygha_ , you shut the door because you knew I’d do this the second you had any reason to want me.  It’s a game, you know that.”

“You’re exceedingly good at playing it.”

“Aren’t I?” Jonathan grinned, “You’ll help, right?”

“I already said I would,” Constantine replied, “you don’t need to play me like a cheap fiddle.”

Jonathan hooked a hand around Constantine’s collar and pulled him close, his voice a low whisper, “You are much more than a cheap fiddle, John Constantine.”

Constantine backed up and sighed, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

Jonathan smiled and ran his fingers over his lips, “Will Vic be a problem?”

“How so?”

“You know why I chose you over any other safe haven,” Jonathan reasoned, “I already knew it was using my power against me.  I was terrified in the Watchtower, it did whatever it wanted there.  Here, I barely feel it, it’s not strong enough in your presence.  Why do you think that is?”

“I’m not afraid of it, or you,” Constantine reasoned, “especially not you.”

“I will never forget showing you my real form,” Jonathan laughed, “have you seen Vic’s yet?”

“He doesn’t really have one,” Constantine shrugged, “he mutates sometimes though.”

“Kinky.”

“Oh my god,” Constantine put out his cigarette in an ashtray.

“I’ll give you some time alone to take care of, you know,” Jonathan raised his eyebrows, “we can play later, if you like.”

“And what are you going to do?” Constantine asked.

“Eat some Tide pods,” Jonathan replied.

“Don’t.”

Jonathan laughed and walked out of the room, “Like you’re actually gonna stop me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MORE BODY HORROR

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how to do summaries. Also, this is set in a verse where Jon is literally an eldritch being, I don't quite have that clarified too well but yeah.


End file.
